Though he slew the basilisk
by McQueriosity
Summary: Fawkes is killed during Harry's battle with the basilisk and Dumbledore must take drastic action to save Harry from the basilisk's venom. The consequences of this will change Harry's life forever. AU. Rating subject to change.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, welcome to the start of my new story. If you've read my other work in progress, Harry Got His Wand, you might notice similar themes at work. I know it has been a while since that story was updated, I haven't abandoned it I just have a lot of work on at the minute. Very soon I'll have a lot more free tiem to work on both that and this. I hope you enjoy.**

If you asked the average person what their favourite sound was they'd probably reply with something soppy like 'the sound of leaves in the park' or maybe, if they were a parent it could be 'the sound of my child's contented sleep'. This is boring. Let's narrow the field a bit. If you asked the average magical person, that is to say, a witch or a wizard what their favourite sound was they might reply the first crackle of magic they produced or again another whimsical noise made by a child. Narrowing the field once more if you were ask Harry Potter during his battle with the basilisk at the end of his second year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry he would have answered without a moment's hesitation that his favourite sound was the battle cry of a phoenix. It's a good thing he wouldn't hesitate either since if he had the basilisk would probably have impaled him on its fangs and devoured him and then where would we be?

Speaking of being and whereabouts in general Harry Potter was currently hiding behind a large rock in the Chamber of Secrets while Fawkes battled the basilisk. He held the Sword of Gryffindor in his right hand, his wand in his left and the Sorting Hat was sitting rather lopsidedly on his head. He lifted the hat out of his eyes and peeked over the rock. Fawkes had blinded the basilisk in one eye and was circling to attack again. The basilisk snapped its jaws at the phoenix which swooped out of the way. Quick as a Snitch Fawkes darted in close and drove his beak into the basilisk's remaining eye. The basilisk roared and thrashed. Fawkes was scrabbling to pull his beak free from the ruined eye when the basilisk slammed its head into the walls of the chamber. Fawkes exploded in a fireball that burned Harry's eyes even after he shut them. Shrivelled and featherless Fawkes fell to the floor of the chamber and lay still. The basilisk was reeling and its head was smoking and burnt but when Harry crept forward he saw its nostrils flare and with open jaws it lunged at him. Without thinking Harry blindly thrust the sword out in front of him. The basilisk's own momentum drove the blade through its upper jaw and into its skull. Riddle screamed and Harry's legs gave out. His vision was becoming blurred and he began to twitch. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was the broken fang of the basilisk sticking out the ruined remains of his right arm and a figure in purple robes advancing on him.

Dumbledore had been deep in thought when he felt Fawkes's distress through their connection. He'd cared for Fawkes through many of his regenerations but it had never felt like this before. He closed his eyes and visualised the connection between them which appeared in his mind as if it were a golden thread connecting him and Fawkes. He grasped his end tightly and apparated through the link. When he appeared in the chamber Riddle gave a cry of alarm. Dumbledore saw Harry pinned beneath the dead basilisk and rushed to his side. The shade of Riddle was still yelling threats but Dumbledore paid it no mind as he pulled Harry free of the carcass. His exposed arm was turning black, a corruption spreading web like from the wound caused by the basilisk's fang. Dumbledore pulled a vial from his pocket, unstopped it and poured the clear liquid into the wound. Phoenix tears held the power to heal the most grievous of wounds, when they were fresh. Dumbledore carried tears he'd collected from Fawkes some years ago. They wouldn't cure Harry of the poison but they would give him time. The black rot faded and receded but still throbbed nastily in the centre of the wound. Harry's eyes flickered open and looked around in an unfocused haze. His lips moved but no speech came forth. Dumbledore leaned closer as he struggled to make out what Harry was saying.

'Ginny' Harry breathed. 'Ron, Lockhart. The diary.' The effort showed in his face, already streaked with blood and grime and now was shiny with sweat.

Dumbledore picked up the Sword of Gryffindor and advanced on the Riddle shade. His blue eyes were no longer twinkling but shone with a fury that still haunted the fevered dreams of Grindelwald as he wasted away in Nurmengard. He swung the shade through the riddle shade. The blade passed through it as Riddle laughed. Remembering what Harry had said Dumbledore aimed his next strike at the diary, piercing the pages with the sword's point. A white light began streaming from Riddle's eyes and when his mouth opened to scream the glow erupted from there as well. Dumbledore shielded his eyes as Riddle exploded.

Harry lay still on the floor, his breathing shallow. As Dumbledore stooped to pick up the reborn Fawkes he heard the sound of footsteps. Ron ran into the chamber with Lockhart's wand at the ready. His arm was shielding his eyes.

'Harry?' He cried. 'Ginny?'

'Mr Weasley, the basilisk has been slain. You may open your eyes'

Ron dropped his arm. 'Professor Dumbledore! What's happened? Is my sister ok?'

'Mr Weasley I need you to be quiet and do exactly as I say. Stay here with Harry and your sister. I have to get help.'

Ron nodded. As Dumbledore stood to disapparate Ron went over to Ginny who was stirring on the floor. When she opened her eyes and saw Ron she began to cry and buried her face in his robes.

Ron hugged his sister tightly as she told him everything. How she'd found the diary and how it had gradually taken control of her and brought her to the chamber. Suddenly her eyes went wide.

'What will mum and dad say? They'll never want to speak to me again. No one will. All those horrible things I did.'

Ron smiled. 'Don't be daft, we're just glad you're alive. Dumbledore will straighten everything out you'll see. Me and Harry will tell him everything.'

A soft pop drew the Weasley's attention. Dumbledore had returned to the cavern bringing with him Snape, McGonagall and Flitwick. At Ron's direction they retrieved Lockhart who was having an argument with a toadstool and brought him into the chamber. Dumbledore gathered up Fawkes in his robes and made them all join hands.

'This,' Dumbledore said, 'will not be easy'. He then apparated teachers and students both out of the chamber of secrets and into the infirmary.

Madam Pomfrey had obviously been prepared as there were beds waiting for them when they arrived. Despite Ron's protests he was bundled into bed along with his sister while the professors levitated Harry behind a curtain to a separate bed. After administering a dreamless sleep potion to the pair of them Madam Pomfrey joined the professors as they surveyed the damage to Harry. Snape was examining the wound.

'Well professor I can say that if you hadn't administered phoenix tears immediately he wouldn't have even made it this far. I don't suppose Fawkes will recover enough to cry some fresh ones in the next five minutes?'

Fawkes poked his head out of the Sorting Hat where he was resting. It was all the answer they needed. Dumbledore's face was grave.

'Harry Potter cannot die. Not like this. We must find a way.'

Dumbledore looked first at McGonagall and then at Flitwick. 'I need a moment with Severus. Please go and check on the young Weasleys.' His face told them it wasn't a request. After they had left he turned to Madam Pomfrey. 'I'm afraid I need you to leave as well Poppy.'

Madam Pomfrey opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again. She turned and left. Dumbledore looked at Snape. 'During your service to Lord Voldemort did he ever teach you how to cast Fiendfyre?'

Snape looked warily at Dumbledore. 'Yes' he answered.

'And to control it?' Dumbledore pressed.

'Yes. Headmaster, if you're about to suggest what I think you are I'm telling you now I won't do it.'

Dumbledore snapped. 'He cannot die do you understand me? If he dies now everyone dies. You are bound to help me Severus you swore an oath. You. Will. Help. Me.'

Snape said nothing and rolled up his sleeves. Dumbledore raised the Sword of Gryffindor over Harry's mangled arm. 'Ready?' he asked Snape.

'Ready'

Dumbledore brought the sword down. The cut was clean. 'Now Severus' Dumbledore shouted.

Snape waved his wand and conjured Fiendfyre. Instead of the raging inferno normally associated with the spell Snape had brought forth a wispy snake. The severed arm was pitch black and the flesh sloughed off leaving a foul stench. The Fiendfyre consumed the corruption and obliterated it. The rot was still spreading through Harry's arm, past the elbow and up towards the shoulder. Snape grimaced as he sent the Fiendfyre _into _Harry's arm. As the fire surged through his veins they glowed. The effect was so powerful that for a moment Dumbledore could see bone through Harry's skin. Gradually Snape pulled back the Fiendfyre. 'That's as much as I can do' he said to Dumbledore. The stump of Harry's arm was red raw and blistering, but the venom had ceased its journey to the heart.

The professors looked down at the boy who lived. His breath was so shallow it was difficult to tell whether he was breathing at all. Dumbledore turned away and walked past the curtain into the main room of the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey and the other professors were waiting.

'He should sleep for a few days, maybe a week. Poppy, I'd like you to keep me informed as to any changes in his condition. I know we can't keep this a secret but there are some owls that must be sent before word reaches the students. There will be a staff meeting first thing tomorrow morning. That will be all.'

Dumbledore and the senior staff left the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey checked that both Weasleys were sleeping soundly before approaching the curtain that shielded what remained of Harry Potter. As she bent over him to check his temperature his left hand shot up and grabbed her by the wrist. In the same instant, his eyes opened.

The once emerald green eyes of Harry Potter now burned bright gold.


	2. Chapter 2

**I would like to thank everyone who took the time to review the first chapter, favourite and/or follow it. Sorry for the long wait I had my final week at Uni and a manic rush of work. I'll have a lot more time for this now. Enjoy. **

_**Snake in the grass?**_

_by Rita Skeeter_

_Those of you who have been following my reports on the events at Hogwarts this year (soon to be made available in the collection '__**Dark Beasts and Dark Times**__' available from all good retailers this autumn) will know that I, like many of you, have voiced my concerns about the leadership of on Albus Dumbledore. I've been receiving letters from concerned parents all year and I have to say I share your concerns. Here at the Prophet we consider ourselves a key element in his suspension and rightly so, he failed to make any significant progress in keeping our students safe from the monster that he proved unable to catch. It took the valiant and dashing Gilderoy Lockhart to discover the lair of the beast and end the threat to our darling little witches (and wizards)._

_ Now I come to you again, only as a concerned chronicler of the misdeeds of Albus Dumbledore. My source tells me that Dumbledore failed to prevent serious injuries to none of than Harry Potter, the boy who lived, who had no business being involved in such a dangerous situation in the first place. Mr Potter took a wound that should have killed him but we here at the Prophet are ever thankful that the fantastic Professor Lockhart was on hand to save him. There are some however who credit another source for Mr Potter's survival. A darker source. One he may have drawn on before, all those years ago when he vanquished he who must not be named. I know I am not alone in my suspicions that only a powerful Dark Wizard could have survived-_

'That's enough Ron.'

Ron put down the paper. It had been weeks since the fight with the basilisk and Harry's eyesight was still worse than ever. Madam Pomfrey had tried her best to be reassuring but when he'd asked her pointedly whether he'd ever be able to see again all she could do was give him a look that said 'I have no idea'. She had at least allowed him visitors, in small doses. Mr and Mrs Weasley had come to visit and assured him that if he were ever to need _anything, _then he was to come to them and they would help. The twins were a lot less smothering, even managing to make him laugh before having a rare serious moment and promising him that anyone who made fun of him now would have to answer to them. Oliver Wood had been ejected by Madam Pomfrey after spending three hours debating, mostly with himself, the logistics of Harry continuing to seek for the Gryffindor Quidditch team with only one hand. Seamus and Dean had come by to thank Harry. Apparently Dumbledore had cancelled the end of year exams after everything that had happened. Hermione came by shortly after to chastise him for the same thing. They'd had a very detailed discussion about muggle prosthetics and Hermione had promised him she'd write to her parents, dentists though they were, to ask them if they knew anyone who could help. Ron confided in him that Ginny had even come to visit when she was sure that Harry was asleep. Ron himself had been spending so much of his time in the hospital wing with Harry that if Dumbledore hadn't cancelled their exams Ron would surely have failed out. Mostly they would just talk. When Ron had told him that there was an article in the Prophet about him he'd asked him to read it out for him. Now he wished he hadn't.

'I don't get it,' said Harry, 'who is this Rita Skeeter anyway? What did I ever do to her? You'd think killing a giant snake would stop people thinking you're a bad guy but she's making out like I'm a little Voldemort in training.'

Harry couldn't see Ron flinch at the name but he could have sworn that he heard him do it.

'Just ignore her Harry,' Ron said, 'I've heard my dad talk about her before she just makes stuff up to get a good story. No one believes you're a dark wizard any more than they think Malfoy's anything more than a smarmy git.'

Malfoy had actually been surprisingly quiet on the subject. Harry wasn't sure whether this was an actual display of tact or whether he just hadn't thought up any good jokes yet. He was sure he would, given time. They were having a good laugh thinking of ways the twins might get revenge on Malfoy for any future wrongdoing, perceived or actual, when Madam Pomfrey bustled into the room. Visiting hours were over. Ron left Harry alone in the hospital wing with a reluctant 'see you tomorrow'.

Hogwarts prepared itself for the end of the year. Trunks were packed, feasts were eaten and promises to visit were exchanged between friends. Harry stood alone in the Gryffindor dormitory. He had finally been discharged from the hospital wing after Madam Pomfrey declared him as cured as he would ever be. When his sight returned he was delighted to discover that he no longer needed his glasses. His eyes remained gold, but the brightness had faded into a more muted hue. The brilliant cover story conjured by Dumbledore turned out to be a pair of dark sunglasses. Apparently wizards could cure almost anything unless it had been inflicted by dark magic. Harry would have drunk nothing but Skele-Grow for the rest of his life if it meant having his arm back but he was adjusting. Dumbledore had sent a letter ahead to the Dursleys explaining in the plainest terms what had happened and how they were to keep Harry inside whenever possible. He suggested a car crash as being the cause of Harry's changed appearance if anyone asked. To their annoyance, the letter arrived on a Sunday.

Packing was not coming easy to Harry. Ron had offered to help him but he was determined to do it himself. He doubted the Dursleys would lift a finger to help him and he had to learn to manage looking after himself. Managing to be neat however, that could wait. Harry stuffed his clothes into his trunk and moved onto his books. While equally resistant to folding they proved less difficult. Hedwig was surprisingly obliging when he opened her cage. Going over everything he made his way down into the common room. Ron and Hermione were waiting for him but everyone else was making their way down to the train. In silence they climbed through the portrait hole and headed out of Hogwarts.

On a rock jutting out of the stormy North Sea there was a prison. In the depths of this prison there was a man. He might have been described as handsome once but Azkaban had a way of draining its occupants down to their bare bones. The island was perpetually surrounded by mist and was extremely inaccessible. There were anti apparition wards covering the entirety of the prison, not that anyone inside was strong enough to apparate out. Strong repelling charms made approach by broomstick impossible. There were no fireplaces of any kind and anyone attempting to use a portkey would find themselves at a different and altogether less pleasant location. When the Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge made his annual inspection of the prison he had to travel by boat. He was then escorted by both senior Aurors and Dementors through a gate that could only be opened by the combined magical signature of three randomly selected Aurors which changed daily. Minister Fudge had come to inspect the prison and all its guests but it was this once handsome man and a newspaper that would come to define this visit in his later years.

When the boat took Fudge away from the island they left with a stowaway. One extremely wet and shaggy dog was bound for the mainland.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey everyone, sorry about the delay I just finished Uni and had to move all the way from Cornwall back up to Newcastle which trust me is a very long way (For a Brit anyway). I'll try and make it up to you with an extra-long chapter, by my standards. I also spoke to a friend of mine who said she might be a beta reader for me so you are this much closer to seeing grammatical kinks ironed out (Except for my apostrophes as speech marks those bad boys are staying). Anyway let's get on with it shall we.**

As it turns out, just because you lose an arm to the king of snakes that doesn't automatically mean that life in the Dursley household gets any better. In fact, Harry would almost say that it had gotten worse. The Dursleys had received a very detailed letter from Dumbledore concerning his situation and the appropriate measures they were to take to avoid any unnecessary distress. If there was anything the Dursleys hated it was unnecessary stress. Unfortunately for Harry Dumbledore's instructions were to keep him out of sight of the neighbours which the Dursleys interpreted as an evener stricter house arrest than usual. Uncle Vernon had even had to call off a visit from his sister and he didn't let any opportunity to show Harry how disgruntled this had made him. His chores hadn't let up either, although he was spared the maintaining of the garden. Dudley's tantrum when he found out that it would be he who was to mow the lawn and prune the rose bushes was to go down in history as at least one of the top five tantrums the Dursleys had ever seen, narrowly beating out no television on the hut-on-the-rock but falling behind Harry-at-the-zoo.

Harry made sure he was cleaning the kitchen whenever Dudley was outside so he could catch a glimpse of Dudley wrestling with the chrysanthemums.

The little free time Harry had he spent in his room trying to adjust to life without his dominant hand. When he unpacked his trunk he found instructions from Madam Pomfrey detailing the most efficient exercises that she assured him would have him as proficient with his left hand as he had been with his right. His most daunting task was learning to write again and rather than trusting him to his word he'd been instructed to send regular letters to both Ron and Hermione. This would be all well and good apart from the small detail that Uncle Vernon refused to allow to let Hedwig out of her cage. So Harry wrote the letters and hid them under the loose floorboard in his room that also safeguarded the spell books he'd need for his summer homework and emergency sweets he'd stashed in case Uncle Vernon withheld food from him for some invented slight. At first his writing was worse than Hagrid's but as time progressed he found himself getting not only neater but faster as well. He still doubted anyone but he would be able to read the sloppy handwriting but at least it wasn't taking him all day to write _Dear Hermione _anymore. If Uncle Vernon would simply let him use the phone he'd be able to call Hermione but of course such a simple act of kindness was beyond Uncle Vernon, who had reverted to a 'Harry Safe Mode' in which he pretended Harry was invisible.

Along with instructions from Madam Pomfrey Harry had also found a package from Dumbledore. Inside was a note. It read:

_Dear Harry_

_I deeply regret being unable to protect you from what happened down in the chamber. There are some things I did not have time to discuss with you before your departure from Hogwarts and, naturally, I suspect you have a great deal of questions you wish to ask me as well. All I ask is that you be patient, come the start of the school year I will explain everything to the best of my ability. In the meantime I have instructions from Professor Snape and I cannot stress how important it is that you heed his advice. This is a unique situation we find ourselves in but I hope that Professor Snape and I can navigate a path for you. I will not lie to you Harry, this will not easy for any of us but we must endure. Enclosed you will find a supply of a very special potion that Professor Snape has prepared for you. I know that your relationship with Professor Snape is not always cordial but it would be terribly unpleasant for you if you do not take this potion as and when directed. I cannot go into details in this letter but I hope it will be sufficient when I say that I trust Professor Snape with my life and, if as I hope you trust me, you will do as I ask. The potion Professor Snape has prepared for you will relieve any pain you feel as a result of your injury and Professor Snape has been kind enough to prepare enough to see you through to the start of term. You may take the potion as and when you feel you need it but I must warn you to drink from the flask I have provided, I am afraid the potion is quite potent and would do a disastrous number on your aunt's crockery if you were to use that instead._

_Keep up with your exercises Harry. I will speak to you when term starts._

_Yours, Albus Dumbledore_

_P.s As a third year you are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade at certain weekends. Please give the enclosed form to your aunt and uncle to sign._

As wonderful as it would be to visit Hogsmeade Harry didn't fancy his chances, not with his having caused Aunt Marge to delay her visit. Still, he thought, he would give it a try. Putting the letter down Harry reached for the flask. Then he reached for it again with his left hand. Choking down his frustration he looked at it. There was nothing particularly unusual about the flask, in another life it may have been hidden inside a hollowed out bible to be swigged from when the priest thought no one was looking. The only difference between this flask and any other flask was that this one had a set of runes Harry had never seen before finely engraved into the metal. Hermione would probably know what they meant but then again telling her would probably result in a massive trawl through the Hogwarts library. Harry unscrewed the flask and raised it to his lips. It smelt very strongly of mint. Harry took a tentative sip. All at once he felt a chill all through his body. It surged down his arm and Harry could have sworn that he felt it in his lost hand. As the chill faded he realised that the dull ache he'd become so used to was gone. Well actually he became aware of the fact that he had had a dull ache which he had gotten used to and was now no longer there. He suddenly felt very tired and quietly stashed the flask and form under his floorboard. Crawling under the covers Harry was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Harry's birthday came and went. To his surprise he received his first ever birthday cards which he placed proudly beside his bed. Ron had sent him a newspaper clipping of him and his family in Egypt. His letter said that they'd won some money and they'd gone to visit Bill and see the work he did as a cursebreaker for Gringotts. He also sent him something called a Sneakoscope which would apparently whistle if someone did something untrustworthy around him. Hagrid sent him a book he'd the better part of an hour rooting out from under the bed before he managed to tie it shut with a belt but it was Hermione's present that he liked best. At first he thought it would be a book but when he opened it his eyes went wide. It was a sleek black case with the words _Broomstick accessories for the impaired _inscribed across the front in fine silver writing. Opening it up he found a number of straps and harnesses as well as stabilising stirrups. Along with the box was a note that read:

_Dear Harry_

_Happy birthday! I know you were worried you'd never get to play Quidditch again after what happened so I did some digging. Mr Weasley recommended this; apparently they mainly sell to Aurors who've been injured fighting Dark Wizards. I sent them a letter and they said you'll definitely be able to fly again with the right equipment. It'll take some time but I've never seen anyone more natural on a broom than you Harry._

_I can't wait to see you again; we have so much to catch up on. See you in September_

_Love, Hermione xx _

Harry got a funny feeling when he saw the kisses at the end of her letter. She'd signed off with love before but kisses? It was probably nothing, no point getting excited over nothing. Not that he was excited. Even so, better safe than sorry. Still though, kisses?

September was fast approaching and Harry still had to go to London to get his school supplies. Time was running out if he was going to get Uncle Vernon to sign his form for Hogsmeade. One night, after he had washed the dishes he saw the best opportunity he was going to get. Aunt Petunia had retired to bed and Dudley was upstairs in an ice-cream coma. Uncle Vernon was sitting in front of the electric fire nursing a brandy. Harry slowly crept into the living room, his Hogsmeade form behind his back.

'Uncle Vernon?' He said. Uncle Vernon gave a grunt of acknowledgement. Harry came fully into the room and stood next to the sofa. 'Third years at my school can go on trips, to the village. I was hoping you'd sign this permission slip so that I could go.'

Uncle Vernon drank the rest of his brandy and poured himself another. His piggy eyes stared out at Harry from his pudgy face.

'Come here boy' He said.

Harry walked over to Uncle Vernon. When he reached the arm of the chair he was in Vernon's arm shot up and grabbed Harry's left wrist. His grip was surprisingly strong. Harry stiffened and tried to pull away but Vernon had him tight.

'Calm down boy I'm not about to beat you. Here, feel this.' He pulled Harry's hand to his scalp and pushed it under his greying hair. 'Tap here' he said. 'What do you feel boy?'

Harry tapped. Vernon's skull produced a sound that was entirely un-skull like. 'Is, is that metal?' Harry asked.

Vernon motioned for Harry to sit down. As he did so Harry noted that his legs were aching and he didn't know why. Vernon looked away and gazed into the fire again.

'When I was a boy, in Smeltings I was in the cadets. After that I was in Sandhurst where I was trained as an Officer. I excelled of course, natural leader they called me. After I passed out I was sent to Northern Ireland. We were patrolling a street, looking for IRA sympathisers when it happened. There was this flash of light and everything went dark. I'd seen the bombs before I knew what it looked like but this; this was something I'd never seen before. That's when the shooting started. I remember thinking _where did they get tracer rounds_? There were green flashes of light everywhere. We fired back and tried to get ourselves into this defensible position. I remember seeing this boy, eighteen years old he'd never shaved a day in his life. He was stuck, frozen with fear behind a car. I ran out to get him, give him a good kick up the arse and get him moving. I was halfway there when the car exploded. Woke up a week later in hospital with this,' Vernon tapped his head again, 'bolted onto me to stop my brains falling out. They never found enough of the boy to send back to his parents. I was given a medical discharge and full pension. It wasn't long before I met your Aunt and we got married.'

Harry sat stiff as a board. He'd never heard this story before. Uncle Vernon reached out and took the Hogsmeade form from Harry. He signed it with a great looping signature that was as round as he was.

'I got a letter from your headmaster. I would have burned the ruddy thing but Petunia persuaded me to do otherwise. What you did, saving that little girl, that was, that was very brave.'

He handed the form back to Harry and gave a signal that the conversation was over. Harry got up and left. As he climbed the stairs he pretended not to hear Uncle Vernon sobbing softly in the sitting room.


	4. Chapter 4

Time passed quickly for Harry after Uncle Vernon's unexpected revelation. Harry hadn't asked but he expected Uncle Vernon would deny all knowledge of having spoken to him at all. Still, Harry had noticed that while Vernon would still bark orders at him there was a distinct lack of malice backing them up. This had filtered down to Dudley who, while still smarting about being placed on gardening duty, was no longer taunting Harry as openly as he had been. Harry managed to sit through his first dinner in the Dursley household in which no insults were sent his way. Before he knew it, it was almost time to go back to Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione had sent letters asking when he would be in London as they were both staying in the Leaky Cauldron and were anxious to see him before term started. Luckily for Harry Uncle Vernon had a very important meeting to attend and consented to giving Harry a lift. He sent Hedwig on ahead with a letter to Tom, the wizened and toothless bartender who ran the Leaky cauldron, asking if a room was available and could he please look after Hedwig until Harry arrived. As he was piling his trunk into the back of Uncle Vernon's company car Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. If he'd chanced to look around he would have seen the eyes of a great black dog staring at him through next door's hedge. As it was Uncle Vernon didn't have time for Harry to investigate Mrs Next Door's shrubbery and hurried him into the car. Soon they were driving to London and all thoughts of what might have been were pushed from Harry's head by the oppressive silence of the car, broken occasionally when Uncle Vernon muttered to himself about the upcoming deal. True to form it was something to do with a large amount of drills, or something equally Durselyish.

After he'd been dropped off Harry quickly made his way through muggle London to the Leaky cauldron. He was glad he'd sent Hedwig along ahead as a scrawny boy with sunglasses and one arm hauling a trunk through rush hour London was a strange enough sight without adding a cranky and cooped up snowy owl to the mix. When he reached the pub he let out a sigh of relief. He had strongly suspected ever since Hagrid had first brought him here two years ago that Muggles couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron unless it was specifically pointed out to them and as he stood outside the door it appeared that they had stopped noticing him as well. It made a welcome change from the 'I'm not staring at the disabled person' non-looks he'd been getting on the way. Feeling closer to home than he had in a long time he pushed open the door and went inside.

The Leaky Cauldron was a pub that hid the magical entrance to Diagon Alley. Normally it was full of magical folk of various descriptions going about their business or enjoying a cold beer. Today the pub was empty, save for a wizard in a long coat stirring sugar into his tea with his index finger. Tom was washing glasses and peering out at him from behind the bar. The walls were covered with magical wanted posters, different from normal wanted posters in that the people in them move. Wizards, not being the brightest lot, were stumped for hundreds of years as to why they weren't catching anyone when they had all these posters up only to discover that the criminal immortalised in the ink simply moved out of frame so no one could get a good look at them. The poster read:

_Wanted: Sirius Black_

_Extremely dangerous_

_Do not approach_

The man in the poster might have been handsome once, but now he was a skeletal figure of a man, his hair was wild and tangled and his eyes were great black pits sunken into his face. If there had ever been a Dumbledore twinkle in this man's eyes it was forever lost.

While he was looking at the poster Tom had shuffled over to him and picked up his trunk.

'I received your owl Mr Potter and your room is ready. If you'd like to follow me I'll get you settled in.'

'Thank you Tom,' said Harry, 'I don't suppose I could have a newspaper as well could I?

'Certainly Mr Potter,' replied Tom, 'I'll have it sent up directly.

Tom led Harry up the stairs and along a corridor. The sounds of muggle London receded and were gradually replaced by the unmistakable hum of wizard activity. The room waiting for harry was a palace compared to what he was used to at the Dursleys. There was a large double bed furnished with oak and a cosy looking armchair next to a roaring fire. A small table sat next to the armchair; on top of it was a pot of tea, a plate of biscuits and the evening paper. Hedwig hooted happily from her hiding place on top of the spacious wardrobe and flew down to perch on the back of his chair. As Harry sat down to read she nibbled his ear affectionately.

'Looks like I have a lot to catch up on Hedwig' Harry said.

'Hoot' said Hedwig.

**Little short this one, my apologies I've just been on holiday for me mam's birthday and wouldn't you know it I got a little distracted by all that sunshine. As a consolation I'll have another chapter up tomorrow or the day after and we should finally be getting to Hogwarts. **


	5. Chapter 5

Harry thought that life in the Leaky cauldron was better than life at the Dursleys in the way that a sandwich tastes better if you make it with bread and not bricks. Breakfast was served at eight sharp but Harry didn't mind getting up early because he was coming down to the best fry up this side of Hogsmeade. Having made so many for the Dursleys you would have thought Harry had lost all taste for them but the smell of the fat sausages sizzling next to rapidly crisping bacon surged straight through his nostrils, grabbed his brain with both hands and yelled 'WAKE UP'. The black pudding was good enough to make you forget what was in it and there were always slices of eggy bread, or French toast if you grew up in the Granger household, to top it all off. When breakfast tasted this good Harry didn't mind that it took him twice as long to eat it, it helped that Tom's breakfasts didn't go cold. All this was washed down with a large pot of tea, with copious amounts of milk and sugar, more sacrilege against the house of Granger. By the time he had finished breakfast and read the morning paper it was no longer morning, but midday, and Harry would leave the Leaky Cauldron, tap the bricks and make his way into Diagon Alley.

Diagon Alley was, in a word, mental. Wizards were altogether more colourful than muggles. The cafes didn't just have umbrellas; they had umbrellas with old school candy stripes that changed colour at random. Witches and wizards went this way and that carrying jars of frogspawn and stacks of books. There were goblins carrying smart briefcases on their way to Gringotts and carts self-propelling across the cobbles with wizards hawking their wares. Harry would sit outside Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour and watch them all go by as he enjoyed an ice cream sundae. Then it was time to go shopping. Harry's first stop was Madam Malkin's. He needed a whole new set of measurements to incorporate both his missing arm and the inches he'd grown since last year. Taking a swig from his flask he then proceeded to the bookshop where the owner was extremely thankful that Harry already had _The Monster Book of Monsters_, looking at his list Harry saw it was one of his new subjects. The other new subject, Divination, looked a lot like magic's version of astrology but then again last year Madam Pomfrey had regrown all the bones in his arm overnight and later on had lost that same arm to the king of snakes which was being controlled by a fifty year old memory operating out of a book, so who was he to say it was duff?

Harry was making his way back to the Leaky Cauldron with his things when he saw it. Sitting in the window of his favourite shop, Quality Quidditch Supplies, was the most magnificent broom he'd ever seen. _I don't even know whether I can still fly_ he thought sadly. The kit that Hermione had sent him was back in his room at the Leaky Cauldron. As magical as the place was he doubted that people going about their business would appreciate Harry zooming through the streets on his Nimbus Two Thousand. And what if he fell off? It was bound to take him a while to get used to riding a broom one handed. He didn't want to make a spectacle of himself. Besides, the broom would still be there tomorrow. Harry turned and left.

The next morning the thing he'd been anticipating more than all the magical curiosities of the alley happened. Harry was walking through the cobbled streets when all of a sudden he was attacked by a bushy head of hair. Hermione threw her arms around him, over her shoulder he could see Ron running up. Ron was very freckly. Hermione let him go and Harry saw she'd been in the sun too, except she'd tanned a lot better than Ron had. They sat down outside Fortescue's. Three sundaes were promptly delivered to the table and Harry and his friends excitedly began catching up. Ron had been to Egypt with the rest of the Weasleys to visit his brother Bill who was busy breaking curses for Gringotts. Hermione had been on holiday in France. While Ron was talking animatedly about the tombs he'd visited;

(Honestly mate you wouldn't believe what the ancient Egyptians cursed their tombs with. They love their gold more than goblins I reckon)

Harry felt a twinge of pain in his arm and reached for his flask. He was almost out of the potion Dumbledore had sent him but he wasn't looking forward to asking Snape for some more when he got to Hogwarts. He caught Hermione's eye and saw her tilting her head to get a better look at the runes;

(It wasn't just spells though they had magical creatures guarding some of them. Bill says he's had to riddle a sphinx more than once and there was this great pit of snakes-oh sorry mate anyway)

Harry passed the flask over to her. Hermione delved into her bag and after a short amount of rummaging produced some paper and a stick of charcoal. Harry watched as Hermione rapidly moved the charcoal across the paper. Soon she had a complete copy of the runes on Harry's flask rubbed onto the paper. She beamed a smile at him and carefully slipped the rubbing into the sleeve of her Ancient Runes book. Harry would later ask himself since when had he been so interested in watching Hermione study. Silence fell over the table. Ron was looking at Harry expectantly and it was clear that they had come to the point in the conversation where it was Harry's turn to add some comment or insight, as you do, and his face worked itself into a very amusing shape as he tried to find a way out of the hole he'd silently tripped into. Later, Hermione would ask herself when she had become so interested in watching Harry struggle his way out of sticky situations (and since Hermione was a little older than him in addition to the fact that girls mature faster than boys her mind immediately went from that thought to a rather filthy one).

Ron missed all of this and helpfully repeated his question, bringing the internal insights to an end.

'I said, Scabbers has been looking a little rough and I'm going to have him checked out at the magical creature shop,' Ron duly pointed out said shop, 'you want to come with?'

'Sure' said Harry, eager for a chance to walk off his ice cream lunch. 'Hermione?'

Hermione poked her head out from behind the Muggle Studies book she was holding upside down and nodded. It might have been her tan but Harry thought she'd been blushing rather furiously. _Girls _he thought. Hermione threw her bag over her shoulder and they all set off towards the shop. As they approached a very large, very ugly ginger cat came barrelling out of the store. It snaked through the legs of one wizard, who dropped the jar of pickled goat eyes he was holding and leapfrogged a witch who had bent down to tie her shoelace. It was running right at them. A fat and red-faced wizard in an apron was chasing after it. 'CROOKSHANKS' the man yelled. If this was the cat's name it gave no attention. It ran straight at Harry, Ron and Hermione. Then something very strange happened.

Crookshanks stopped, sat down and looked Harry dead in the eyes. Before Harry could do anything the owner of the shop caught up and bundled Crookshanks into his arms. The moment the cat broke eye contact with Harry it began hissing and spitting. The wizard held on valiantly until the cat scratched his face. The cat dropped, then calmly walked back to Harry and curled up at his feet. As the wizard stormed off Harry heard him mutter 'keep it'. The three of them looked down at the cat. Ron shook his head then looked at Harry.

'Well that was strange. Anyway, keep that bloody thing here I don't want it anywhere near Scabbers. He's under the weather as it is. Which reminds me I still need to get him looked at. Why don't I meet you back at the Leaky Cauldron? See if you can't lose that,' he jabbed a finger at the cat, 'on the way.' With that, Ron made his way through the crowd of people to the shop. Harry and Hermione were left with nothing else to do but take their things back to the Leaky Cauldron. They walked in silence, Crookshanks trailing behind them.

'You know Harry,' said Hermione, 'I've always fancied a cat.'

'Well I've only got a small tiger in stock at the minute, but if you're willing to take him on he's all yours. Consider it an early birthday present.'

Soon Harry, Hermione, Ron and the rest of the Weasley clan were wheeling their trunks, owls, rats and a cat through King's Cross Station. Despite a great deal of protesting on his part the Weasley twins insisted on loading his trunk onto the train and packing it away in the storage rack above a compartment that was apparently 'reserved' for Harry. This was news to the new first years who had occupied it previously, but they left without much protest. As they got settled Ron noticed Harry was looking rather uncomfortable.

'Don't worry about it Harry, they won't keep that up forever. You want me to have a word with them?'

Harry shook his head and stroked Hedwig. 'Nah I'll do it.'

Hermione buried herself in a book and didn't surface despite the boy's best efforts, so they decided to play chess (Harry lost) and then exploding snap (Ron was still nursing singed eyebrows). When the conversation turned to Hogsmeade Hermione roused herself from her book to explain all about the goblin rebellions that had taken place. Harry and Ron switched to Professor Binns mode which resulted in a loud harrumph and the rustling of pages that told them it was safe to talk again. Ron had just told Harry about the last time the twins had been let loose in Zonko's when the train slowed to a halt and all the lights went out.

Harry got as far as 'what' before he heard it.

_Rip. Tear. KILL._

It couldn't be here it was dead he'd seen it die

_Enemies of the heir beware._

CLUNK

The windows had frosted over. Harry could feel Ron and Hermione's weight on the seat. A grey, slimy hand was reaching for the door handle.

CLUNK

_Kill them. Kill them all._

A creature was opening the door. Its breath was a permanent death rattle. Under its hood Harry could feel it _looking _at him. His head swam. Out of the misty depths he saw the eyes. The great golden eyes of the basilisk, glowing and pulsing. The snake wrapped tightly around him. He was being crushed.

CLUNK

_We will kill Harry Potter. We will kill his friends. _

The hooded creature was getting closer. Harry had his wand out. He arm was trembling. The pain in his stump was unbearable. The wand slipped from his fingers. He was on the floor now, scrabbling for his flask. _A drink. I need a drink. _

CLUNK

And then

'EXPECTO PATRONUM'

A bright light filled the room. The creature recoiled and fled and the darkness retreated with it. Harry's vision cleared. He quickly picked up his wand. Ron was white as a sheet and shaking. Hermione was rocking back and forwards, her mouth moving silently. An object came flying through the doorway at Harry, who snatched it out of the air. It was a large bar of chocolate emblazoned with the word 'Honeydukes'.

'Eat that' a gruff voice said. 'I'm going to chase that bugger down.'

With a CLUNK, the strange figure was gone.

Ron was the first to recover his breath.

'Who the bloody hell was that?'

**Hi everyone, sorry this chapter took so long. I know I said I would have it up earlier than this. In future all I can say is I'll try to get them up as fast as possible. Hogwarts in the next chapter for real this time. Thanks for sticking with it.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry this took so long, I had to look for a job (I got one) and take care of some personal business. Thank you for sticking with it you've no idea how chuffed I am when I see my email notifications of the favourites, follows and reviews it really means a lot to me. Until next time. **

Harry was still shaking when the Hogwarts Express reached its destination. The weather agreed with him, having taken a definite turn for the worse since the creatures had boarded the train. The mysterious man was nowhere to be seen but when he looked around Harry could tell that whatever it was had either had friends or visited the rest of the train as well because he wasn't the only one who looked worse for wear. Seamus Finnegan was pale, clammy and leaning heavily on Dean Thomas. Parvati Patil was consoling a crying Lavender. Harry even saw Malfoy briefly and was pleased to notice that he looked awful. His face was completely devoid of the usual smug smirk and he was staring into the distance taking no notice of his surroundings. Wordlessly Harry, Ron and Hermione climbed into one of the enchanted carriages and wit a jolt they began their journey to Hogwarts Proper. As they trundled up the mud path Harry broke the silence.

'Ron, do you have any idea what that was?'

Ron nodded slowly. 'I think it was a Dementor. I've heard dad talk about them, they're the guards of Azkaban.'

'What on earth are they doing boarding the train?' asked Harry.

Hermione chipped in. 'It's obvious isn't it?' The boys gave her a nonplussed look. 'They're searching for Sirius Black.'

Ron shook his head. 'Why on earth would he be on the train? If it was me, if I'd just escaped from the most secure prison on the planet, no one's ever done that before you know, I'd be far away. The whole ministry's after him, dad says he's been pulled off a six month investigation of biting snuff boxes because of it.'

Harry and Hermione gave him a look.

'What?' He said, 'snuff boxes are a big deal. You let the small things slide and before you know people are enchanting who knows what in their back yards.'

Harry burst into a coughing fit that sounded remarkably like _flying cars_. Ron went pink. For someone who worked in the misuse of muggle artefacts office Arthur Weasley did an awful lot of 'research' at home. The great door to Hogwarts loomed out of the mist in front of them followed by the rest of the castle. You might think it not necessary that I clarify the door was attached to Hogwarts but I'd remind you that this is a castle with an internal geometry complex enough to give Escher a migraine and pieces of it have regularly got up and moved of their own accord. The door, having fulfilled none of its potential (its mother was very disappointed he could have made much more of himself), swung open. The light from dozens of magical torches beckoned them in, and in they went. It could have been a trick of the light but as they moved into the great hall Harry swore that one of the suits of armour nodded to him. Then they were in the great hall. The enchanted sky was a fierce maelstrom with dark blue clouds battling for dominance punctuated by flashes of lightning. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down together at the Gryffindor table and watched as the diminutive charms professor carried a three legged stool and a raggedy hat into the centre of the hall. The hat managed to sit quite upright despite the fact that it was very floppy.

Then the great doors opened and Professor McGonagall led in a procession of terrified first years. Watching the first years was always something of a guilty pleasure for Harry. Even those who came from magical families were shocked. Hearing about Hogwarts and seeing it for the first time, crossing the barrier at Kings Cross, changing into your robes for the first time and crossing the lake with Hagrid, ducking under the poison ivy and seeing the castle silhouetted against the moonlit sky and now this. Being sorted in the great hall in front of the four great houses, one of which you'd spend the next seven years. Everything was new and exciting for them, full of possibility. This was their life now. Harry glanced at Hermione. She was smiling, not a wide smile but a quiet one, a small _welcome home _kind of smile. Harry heard a collective drawing in of breath and wrenched his golden eyes away from her. The sorting hat straightened up a little, a rip at the hat's brim opened wide and it burst into song:

_I've been your hat for many years_

_Seems silly but it's true_

_I take no greater pleasure_

_Than sorting all of you_

_The cunning and the brave_

_The clever and the loyal_

_I'll put you where you need to be_

_So that you'll never spoil_

_But heed my warning young ones_

_It's true that I'll divide you_

_But we must stand united_

_All four live on inside you_

_I fear a storm is coming_

_Though right now we're in the calm_

_Don't lose your friends to fortune_

_Hold them tightly by the arm_

_Now it's time to sort you_

_Please don't be afraid_

_I'm simply sending you to sleep_

_In beds already made_

Applause rang out through the hall. Harry banged the table instead and looked around. Ron had a look on his face that suggested he'd eaten a funny whelk. As the applause died down he whispered to Harry, 'I don't fancy having a little Slytherin in me.' Harry choked down his laughter. Professor McGonagall had produced a large list and for all the hat's warnings the first years looked very afraid. With every new Gryffindor Harry cheered loudly with the rest even though none of them seemed eager to sit near the skinny boy with golden eyes and only one arm. As the last of the first years was sorted (HUFFLEPUFF!) a low murmuring began, punctuated by the rumbling of bellies. Dumbledore got up to speak, his purple robes shimmering in the light.

'Welcome' he said, 'to another year at Hogwarts. You will have noticed the presence of the Dementors of Azkaban. The ministry feels it wise,' Dumbledore paused to make absolutely sure that the Hogwarts students knew that he did not think it wise, 'that they be stationed here, at every entrance to the grounds until Sirius Black is apprehended. They are here for your protection but I must warn you, do not try to deceive them. Dementors make little distinction between those who get in their way and their prey. The effect Dementors have on a person depends entirely upon that person, there will be chocolate available on request to any student with no questions asked.'

Dumbledore looked around the room. Harry looked around Gryffindor table. There was none of the usual feigned agreement to be found. The forbidden forest might as well be called the 'I-Wouldn't-If-I-Was-You' forest for all the heed students took to Dumbledore's warnings but the Dementors were different.

Dumbledore cleared his throat as if he was aware the narration was slowing and continued.

'On a happier note, I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. Our dear Professor Kettleburn has retired. I believe he intends to spend his free time observing dragons in Romania. We wish him and his remaining limbs the best of luck. It is with great pleasure that I announce our very own Rubeus Hagrid will fill the position of Care of Magical Creatures in addition to his gamekeeping duties.'

Hagrid stood up, his face red behind his enormous whiskers. Harry, Ron and Hermione clapped loudest of all. Hagrid sat down and toasted them all with his massive ale tankard, his cheeks bunched by his grin. Dumbledore waited for the noise to die down before continuing.

'Second, I am pleased to welcome Professor Moody to the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts. We wish him the very best of luck. With that I leave you to enjoy our wonderful feast. Tuck in.' Dumbledore clapped his hands once and the empty plates in front of them were filled with mountains of food. While Ron dished out the food Hermione lent over to Harry.

'That's the man who chased the Dementor away on the train. I do hope he teaches us that spell it seems awful useful.'

Harry nodded. Seeing the man in the light of the hall made him wish they were in shadow again, his face was a mass of horrible scars and he was missing an eye and a good portion of his nose. Poking out from the hem of his robes Harry could see a metal foot. This man was either really good at his job, or extremely lucky. If he taught him how to chase away Dementors though, so much the better. Anything would be better than Lockhart. The rest of the feast passed without incident, except that when Harry took a swig of his flask to numb the pain in his arm it took him two instead of one before the calming icy numbness took over.


End file.
